Madness in Madagascar
by Obsessed-Language-Freak
Summary: It's summer, and what's worse than a holiday with all your crazy friends? A holiday in which two of your crazy friends are in love and won't admit it! Albeit unwittingly, China and Japan have been driving everyone mad, and so begins Operation ChuuNi. China/Japan; minor FrUK, RusAme.
1. Chapter 1

Madness in Madagascar

Warnings: Use of both human and country names

Pairings: China/Japan; minor RusAme, FrUK

What is this crazy prompt fill? Well, at least it'll get me writing ChuuNi. In a bid to make the teeny-tiny ChuuNi fandom bigger, the lovely **Inclinant **gave me some prompts, which are spread throughout this two-part oneshot. The prompts are as follows: vacation on a tropical island; marble; coffee; sea eagles; chocolate fountains + marshmallows (exploding); champagne truffles; drunken Japan; roses in the swimming pool; cake on top of a mountain; lemurs; typhoon; candles in caves; and, moon, flowers, and tea.

Also, disclaimer: I don't own APH.

* * *

Summer had arrived, and seeing as it was just about the only thing that everyone could agree on celebrating, there was therefore an Annual National Holiday. Every year, in a bid to enjoy a holiday and forget about the stress and grind of day-to-day life, nations would group up and jet off to different corners of the world, to friends' houses, or to high-end, secluded hotels… For just a week, feet could be put up, papers could remain unread, and headaches could be quelled with seemingly endless relaxation.

Last year had been Finland. This year, at Arthur's insistence, they were going somewhere hot –specifically, Madagascar. Francis hoped that this year wouldn't be as disastrous as the last. Cooping several stressed, tired nations up in the same establishment had always inevitably led to some problems, but this year had been a hard one for a lot of them, and he hoped that the first thing on their minds was relaxing, as opposed to causing mayhem. However—and he was sure that some of the others would agree—there was one very pressing, frustrating issue that, if allowed to continue, would ruin the holiday before it had even started.

_It's so obvious, _he thought, as he passed the two culprits walking side by side, the taller looking at the ceiling; the epitome of forced, fake confidence. _Everyone sees it—you two are just too stubborn to admit it. _He sighed airily and pursed his lips, formulating a plan even before the need for one had been confirmed.

* * *

"So, France, what did you want to speak to us about?" Russia asked, looking placidly curious (and curiously placid, given that he could have been on his way home were it not for this meeting). "Please make it quick, though."

Everyone—bar the two nations in question—was seated in the meeting room. The sight of the two empty chairs should have made obvious what was going to be said, but it was better to clarify it anyway. "Well," Francis began, motioning to the empty seats. "I'm sure you've all noticed that China and Japan aren't here."

"Is there something they shouldn't know?" Russia looked a little amused at keeping the missing duo out of the loop. "It's not often they're the ones in the dark."

"Oh, it's nothing sinister," Francis replied, and noticed a few shoulders sink in relief. "But have you all noticed just how… hung up on each other they seem?" Various others nodded, and Francis could tell that they knew where this was going. "Well, I don't know what you all think, but this holiday isn't going to be much fun if they're like this all the time. So, being the man of romance that I am, I am proposing that we get them together."

"Wait, are you saying that they're crushing on each other?" America asked incredulously, eyes wide in disbelief. "Really? I never noticed!"

"Please, it's a virtual elephant in the room," Arthur shook his head, grumbling under his breath. "How did I put up with you?"

Germany sighed. "I for one refuse to be a part of it. They're both private people, and this wouldn't go down well."

"That's the point," Francis said, gesturing around him for no particular reason. "Look at them. Any more of this and I'll go crazy. They're both so stubborn that we'd actually be doing them a favour." Several nations nodded in agreement, and Francis leant back in his chair.

"I still refuse," Germany said, walking towards the door. "But I won't tell them, either."

Francis thanked him as he left. "Anyone else who doesn't want to take part, well, you're under no obligation to, but we'd all appreciate it if you didn't tell them." Arthur hesitated, as did Feliciano, who had lost his biggest ally, but in the end, no one else got up to leave. Even Russia remained. "So, we're all up for it, then?"

Affirmations sounded from around the table and Francis looked around at his comrades-in-arms. "So, seeing as there is no time like the present, suggestions?"

* * *

Gates rolled back to admit various taxis into the hotel grounds. Whitewashed complexes overlooked the beach or backed onto vibrant green landscape. Smooth terracotta bricks made up quiet courtyards, quaint tables and chairs setting a welcoming, idyllic mood.

"Ve~, we're here!" Feliciano cheered happily, racing ahead of everyone to get to the reception in his excitement. Kiku took his time, taking in the small details.

They would be the only ones staying here for the week, much to his relief. It was an expensive feat, certainly, though they sometimes received discounts if the hotel saved on electricity and catering—but it would be worth it. The interior was just as stunning as the outside, but suggested a totally different feel. Marble floors, polished to a high buff, and immaculate furnishings made up the amazing but distant atmosphere that hotels usually created.

The reception led onto another courtyard, which was home to a small, secluded pool. More of the quaint tables were dotted around, as well as sun loungers and deckchairs.

Their rooms were separated, on various levels and in different wings of the establishment. He would be in the West Wing with England and Russia—not an entirely unwelcome combination; both were quite quiet at night, unless Arthur was intoxicated. The others would occupy the East Wing, on the other side of which there was a bigger pool.

Given that they usually followed a loose itinerary, Alfred decided that they would meet by the main pool in a couple of hours to decide their plans. That was enough time for people to settle in, relax and begin to unwind. With that in mind, Kiku headed to his room. Yao followed suit, and the remaining nations glanced at each other knowingly before breaking up and dispersing.

The plan was beginning.

* * *

From his balcony, Yao looked out at the pool, where most of the others were gathered, either enjoying themselves in the water or relaxing by the side. He wasn't expected there yet, and he needed some time alone to sort through his growing feelings for Kiku and determine whether they were just childishly fleeting or there for good. If it was indeed the latter case (as he suspected), the next step was to determine how to deal with them.

He had had these feelings for a while now, and they did not feel impermanent, but maybe he was misconstruing them as romantic because Kiku was older now, more mature. For Yao to dote on him as he had done his younger counterpart would be demeaning to them both.

On the other hand, he had certainly never felt his heart seize up whenever anyone mentioned Kiku's name in the past, nor had he ever felt such a pressing need to be near him constantly, to be beside him, to help him through new or difficult things. There were things he wanted to say to him, to do with him; and he knew that he would give anything to hold him in his arms, to run that soft dark hair through his fingers…

Yes, he had long since established that these were indeed feelings of love, and that they were there to stay.

He watched as Kiku threw the beach ball back to Alfred and retreated under the parasol. Each and every movement that Kiku made lingered in his mind, from the way he sat with an arm across himself when feeling nervous, to the way his eyebrows knotted ever-so-slightly when he was concentrating—in fact, Kiku had never spent so much time occupying his thoughts.

Would it be taken poorly, he wondered, to love the one who had hurt him so much all those years ago, never mind that it would be betraying himself to deny those feelings? He thought of Alfred and Ivan, who had been rivals for the longest time. They had made it work, so why couldn't he?

There was a knock on his door, and Ivan's voice sounded through the wood. "Yao? Are you there?"

"One second." He opened the door and made way so that Ivan could enter. "What is it?"

Ivan's features seemed to soften a little. "You look a little tired," he said, proffering a cup of coffee. Yao accepted it gratefully, taking a small sip.

"It's probably just the flight," he said, slightly confused. He felt fine, if a little weary. The coffee did help, though. "Why do you ask?"

"You've just seemed down recently," Ivan said. "Have you… fought with Japan, or something?"

He froze, instantly worried. Perhaps unaware, Ivan continued. "You two seem really awkward around each other, like you're really distant. He seems like he's pretty… fed up with you, or something. He hasn't been giving you any more trouble, has he?"

He tried to answer, but suddenly found that his mouth was dry. Even though he had been under the impression that he was the closest to the other, Kiku was fed up with him? Swallowing hard, he forced a response. "No, no, he hasn't done anything. Has he said anything to you?"

"Well, you know him," Ivan said with a shrug. "We still don't get on very well."

"Oh," he said, feeling stupid. He tried to shrug it off, but even he could tell he wasn't succeeding. "Maybe he's just… having a bad week."

"Hmm," Ivan watched him drink the rest of the coffee in one go, looking slightly sympathetic. "I just thought I'd let you know. Don't let it get to you," he said kindly. "He's not worth it. Besides, in the end, it won't matter whether you're friends or not, because we'll all be living in my house, right?"

Numbly giving the required answers, he showed Ivan out. When he was certain the other had gone, he sat down, all the strength in his legs gone. He reflected on the past few months, trying to think if Kiku had ever shown any signs of discomfort around him, but there was nothing suggested as such. He had not shown an open interest, but then anyone who expected that was severely misguided. Thinking about it, Ivan hadn't been very specific, and there was every possibility that he had just misunderstood one of Kiku's subtle and hard-to-read moods. But if he had hurt Kiku, then he needed to confirm it.

A clock struck the hour. Making his way down to the pool, he sent a fleeting, longing glance Kiku's way. Kiku was returning it, downcast. Even as they discussed trips and activities, a heavy weight settled on his heart.

* * *

The heavy sound of crashing water filled the air and ripples spread across the formerly calm pool. Spray shot up from all sides, half-soaking him. The sun shone through it, creating small rainbows on the floor. Alfred surfaced from the pool and cheered. "Keeks, you _have _to come in the pool! It's great!"

"Have you been talking to Yong-Soo-san?" he asked, sitting by the poolside. Given that he was in his casual clothes, he didn't particularly want to get any wetter than he already was. In an attempt to distract Alfred, he changed tack, onto the nickname that the boisterous South Korean had given him some years back.

"Maybe," he said, grinning as he floated on his back and kicked his way into the centre of the pool.

Kiku smiled and stood up, gazing at the sky. It was hot and humid, and in an attempt to get out of the sun, he retreated under a parasol. Yao had not come down yet, he noticed. Kiku sighed and tried to force himself to stop trying to work Yao into every situation he was in. There were inevitably going to be times when they were apart, and while he knew he should therefore be content with the people around him, he could not help but feel terribly… unenthused when Yao was not there. But when he was… well, he felt completely different. Alert, but alive. Secure. Until Yao was by his side, he was only existing, not living. He longed to be able to tell Yao his feelings and to have those feelings reciprocated.

Daydreaming of this, he began to fall asleep, when someone bumped into the lounger he was on, jolting him awake.

"Oh, sorry, Japan. I must not have been looking where I was going." Ivan's soft voice split the former quiet, but was overshadowed by those of the others, who must have arrived during his shallow sleep. Alfred was engaged in a very strange version of volleyball with France and Feliciano, who had somehow coaxed Ludwig into it too.

"You didn't hurt yourself, did you, Russia-san?" he asked, allowing himself to be just a bit rude. He did not usually get on with Russia, whose apology seemed rather insincere.

Russia 'hmphed', and as he left, Kiku struggled to wake up. Having been prematurely woken up, his head was fuzzy and slow.

"Here," Arthur, who was on the adjacent deckchair, handed him a cup of coffee. "You look like you need it."

"Thank you," he said gratefully. "You're not playing, England-san?"

"Maybe later," Arthur said, casting an eye at the group. "There's time before we decide what to do, anyway."

Nodding, he quickly looked around. Yao was still nowhere to be seen, presumably still in his room. He hesitated, because this next question would reveal all his insecurities and all his deepest wishes. "And, eh… China-san is…"

"Still in his room, as far as I know," Arthur said, watching as the ball bounced out of play. Kiku picked it up and threw it back to them, letting them fight for the throw. "Speaking of whom," Arthur said as he sat down again. "Have you… I don't know, had a fight with him, or something?"

"Sorry…?" He froze up, fully aware and ashamed of the distress and fear in his eyes.

"Things just seem awkward between you two, that's all."

"Is that so?" Kiku he asked, unable to think. He felt his lips go dry in nervousness. Had he been imagining their closeness all this time? Had he forced Yao away—or worse—hurt him again?

Instantly, he mentally revised everything he had said to Yao in the last few months, trying desperately to recall if he had said anything that could have been misinterpreted or misconstrued as offensive. Finding nothing, he realised that he must have simply offended the other with his presence. And yet Yao had been so kind and responsive, so warm to him, even while he had been so consistently rude.

In his eyes, there was only one solution. After apologising, he would avoid Yao as much as possible. He would cast aside the feelings that he had been nurturing for months and never act on them. His feelings paled in comparison to how Yao felt, and frankly put, he had had enough of causing him pain.

Arthur said nothing more, save to complain about the heat (which Kiku found odd seeing as Arthur had insisted on this location for that very reason), and Kiku allowed himself to secretly analyse and agonise over each and every thing that he had said and done. When Yao arrived at the pool, shortly after Ivan, Kiku took one last, long glance at him, promising himself that this would be the last time that he saw him with love in his eyes.

* * *

Evening had fallen. Nations were still loudly messing around in the pool, without a care in the world. Yao had noticed earlier that Kiku had somehow silently disappeared, expertly vanishing to who knew where.

The look of sorrow that Kiku had given him was haunting him, and Yao was still trying to determine whether or not he should confront him. On one hand, he could be totally rejected, but on the other, he couldn't simply ignore the nagging need to confirm that rejection. Feigning tiredness, he headed to Kiku's room, took a deep breath and knocked.

* * *

"Yes?" Kiku looked up at the knock on his door. He hadn't been expecting anyone, so the noise took him a little by surprise.

"Can I talk to you?" Yao asked, his voice a little muffled. Swallowing hard, Kiku took a deep breath and opened the door, hoping that his eyes did not look too red and that he looked presentable. His heart skipped a beat as Yao walked in, looking him up and down. He shut the door and refused to meet the other's eyes, watching the floor instead.

This was his punishment—as Yao had had to endure his presence, Kiku would now have to endure his. Silence drew out, growing more and more awkward. Eventually, Yao spoke up. "You know, it's been a while since we talked," he said, dark eyes watching his every move. Numbly, Kiku nodded. He could still feel those eyes on him and meekly kept his own averted. "You're not with the others?"

"Nor are you, China-san." He kept his voice level and controlled, revealing none of the emotions he had previously allowed to shine through. "Can I help you?"

"I just wondered how you were," Yao said, sounding a little hurt by the distance in his words.

Kiku bowed his head further. No matter what he did, all he ever ended up doing was hurting Yao. Perhaps that was his fate, to endlessly repel the one he wanted so desperately to attract. It was certainly what he deserved. "You look upset," Yao said, moving towards him. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes."

"You're lying."

Kiku prepared himself for everything he was about to say. He had hurt Yao yet again, and so deserved to be left by the other, though it would break his heart. "It's… I'm fine. You don't have to go out of your way to be nice to me. Please, discard me. If it stops me bothering you, I'll be happy with that. I'm sorry for being such a trouble, such a…"

"What?" Yao's voice held evident surprise—maybe even confusion. "_Discard you? _Do you know how important to me you are?" He laughed hollowly, disbelieving. "Kiku, it's unbelievable that you'd bother anyone, let alone me." He stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder, drawing away when Kiku flinched. "What do you mean, anyway?"

Kiku stepped back, forcing himself to at least look at Yao. His shoulders were still raised defensively from the touch. "All this time, I've been bothering you, haven't I? I've been a nuisance, an annoyance, a…" He stopped short, realising that Yao looked confused again.

"Of course not! That was what_ I_ was worried about," Yao exclaimed, and Kiku felt a similar confusion. How on earth could Yao have been bothering him? "I thought I'd upset you somehow!"

"…England-san said that we looked like we'd fought," he said, sinking onto the sofa in confusion. Yao sat next to him, incredibly close, and Kiku continued, swallowing hard. "So I thought that I must have upset you, or…"

"Ivan said the same thing to me," Yao said, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "I thought the same. But we've been get…" He stopped suddenly, and Kiku saw him blush. "What I mean is—I didn't think things were awkward between us…"

Kiku nodded in puzzled agreement. With the thought that he was free from this particular guilt came the slightest hope that their relationship was not impossible, and this filled him with joy and relief. "Maybe England-san and Russia-san just misunderstood something?"

"Whatever the case, you couldn't get on my nerves," Yao said, smiling at him. That smile was so bold and brilliant… He felt the blush before he felt the embarrassment, and Yao looked a little surprised. He laughed lightly once, not unkindly, then smiled contentedly. "Well, I suppose if everything is okay…"

Yao got up to leave, and Kiku felt a little disappointed. He would have liked Yao to stay a little longer… _If I haven't hurt him, is it alright for me to have just this one thing? _

"_Anou_…"

Yao stopped. "Yes?"

"You know, you're right. We haven't talked in a long time. If you like… please stay for a bit?"

* * *

It was good to be back by the sea, Kiku mused. The white sand was deliciously warm under his feet and a light breeze ruffled his hair.

The others were sunbathing, playing in the sea or on the beach (Feliciano was making much-admired sand sculptures of animals, including a friendly elephant and a surprisingly fearsome shark). He had just finished a chapter of his book when someone flumped onto the sand next to him. He looked up, distracted. "China-san."

"You should come and join in," Yao said with a grin. "It seems pretty unfair; you sitting here all by yourself. Plus, it'd be more fun if I had someone to pass to."

Kiku motioned to the book. "I've got another chapter…"

"It'll keep," Yao said, grabbing his hand and removing the book from it. "Come on!" With that he was hauled onto his feet, and Yao broke into a run across the sands, still holding his wrist. Half-dragged, half-running to keep up, Kiku barely registered that he was running into the cold water until it was up to his thighs. Then he shrieked and struggled, only to be soaked by a wave.

"It's c-c-cold," he said, teeth chattering.

"It's better if you just go under," Alfred said, grinning at him. Before he could protest, the stronger nation pushed him underwater, and he surfaced clumsily, gasping for breath and shivering. Still alert, though, he slyly hooked one of his legs around Alfred's, and pulled, sweeping him into the water. "What the-"

Arthur and Yao exchanged brief glances and burst out into raucous laughter. Alfred surfaced, not quite comprehending why the others were laughing so hard. It had all come as a bit of a blur to him. Nonetheless, even he began to laugh. Influenced by the mood of the others, Kiku joined them. No one quite caught Yao staring.

They were playing the third round of volleyball when a shrill cry sounded from above. Everyone stopped and looked up—in his momentary lapse of concentration, Feliciano's giant sand shark lost half its dorsal fin. A large bird hovered above the ocean. "It's an eagle," Arthur said, looking at it eagerly. "I can't tell what type, though."

The bird swooped down and hovered closer to them. "Hey," Alfred exclaimed, grinning. "It likes me!" The bird fluttered closer, while Alfred just smiled on.

"Alfred, you should probably back away slowly," Arthur warned.

"Nah, eagles love me!" Alfred replied. "After all, I _am _the hero!"

Arthur retreated slowly towards the shore. Yao stepped in front of Kiku, discreetly shielding him. The bird extended a talon and swiped at Alfred's face. Everyone flinched, but, on hearing no cry of pain, looked up.

Alfred stood in the water, confused, glasses missing from his face. Then realisation hit. "Hey!" he called, running after the troublesome bird. "Give Texas back! That state is part of the greatest constitution in the world!"

For the second time that day, Yao and Kiku burst out laughing.

* * *

"That was fun," Kiku commented as he finished towelling himself off back on shore. He was cold now, but it had been worth it. They were both sitting in the sun, drying off. A few nations had already gone on ahead. The only ones on the beach were Ludwig, Feliciano, Russia, and themselves.

Yao stretched and smiled at him. "You should laugh more often," he said, leaving his long hair down. Kiku tried not to stare, but he dearly loved the way Yao's hair splayed over his proud shoulders.

Blushing, Kiku sneezed, tensing automatically as hands and the warm material of Yao's jacket touched his shoulders. "Don't want you catching cold," Yao explained, looking away with no real expression.

"Th-Thank you."

"Are you coming shopping tomorrow too?" he asked, trying to break the awkward silence that had developed between them.

"I need to get Yong-Soo-san something, as a 'thank you for not _entirely _destroying the house' gift," he remarked dryly, and Yao laughed.

"I wanted to get something for Yi Ling and Jia Long," he said. "How about going together?"

Kiku nodded, voice wavering a little. "Sure." Yao beamed at his response, and Kiku smiled back, softening. Yao's happiness was really so infectious that he didn't think it was possible to be unaffected by it. Similarly, but of course unbeknownst to Kiku, every time he laughed, Yao could not help but smile, for the other found each movement and expression positively charming.

Yao reached down to help him up, and Kiku accepted his hand gratefully. A moment later, they realised what it looked like, and sprang apart. On reaching the hotel, each excused himself hurriedly to return to his room and remember the feel of the other against his skin.

* * *

Francis felt a spark of pride as he saw China and Japan sitting together; discussing something or other over a morning cup of tea. So far, everything was going according to plan. It had been all too easy to make those two believe that they meant nothing to each other, and it was all too obvious that they had quelled this fear. Today, everyone was going shopping in the capital. He had planned to set up a chocolate fountain, and implicate them in some romantic scene, but that meant buying the equipment, returning to the hotel and setting it up all before China and Japan returned from shopping (which they would no doubt do together). But he had a willing team and love so often made people blind…

* * *

Yao wondered why some men complained about shopping with their girlfriends or partners (evidently, they had not witnessed first-hand the long, drawn-out browsing sessions that Kiku spent looking at _everything_). He was actually quite happy about it. He could spend all day doting on Kiku, which, in his eyes, made it a rather perfect day.

Kiku, however, seemed to be finding it more stressful, subconsciously following the rather complex Japanese gift-giving protocol. Firstly, the gift had to be something practical. Secondly, it had to be not-too-expensive, and not-too-cheap. Thirdly—and by no means finally—it should to appeal to that person's likes. Then the purchases were limited to things that could be taken easily through customs and the like.

So far, Kiku had selected a box of sweet-smelling soaps for Yi Ling, and was now looking for a present for Jia Long and Yong-Soo.

While admittedly he did get a little fidgety sometimes, Kiku was distracting enough to stop him getting bored. Every time he thought he had spotted something worthwhile, he would take it in both hands, look up, and mentally recite criteria against which he was judging it. It was never dull, as whenever he liked something, he would give a small, triumphant smile that made Yao's heart flutter; and whenever something did not meet his standards, he would frown, purse his lips in thought and put it back.

"Hey," he said, as Kiku sorted through packs of highly decorated playing cards. "There's a stall over there. I'll get something to eat, okay?"

Kiku nodded, engrossed in his task. Yao left him to it, smiling, and headed towards the stall, attracted by the smell of a local type of bread. He was halfway there when he spotted something interesting.

An innocent-looking package sat on the shelf. Yao, however, found it very difficult to control himself. He had never known that there were _panda suit pyjamas_. Instantly, he realised just how positively _adorable _Kiku would look in them. On seeing that one size fitted all, he purchased them with all haste and hid them in one of his bags. Somehow, he would get Kiku to wear them. Yes, he could imagine it now, those dark eyes peeking out from under that dark fringe, with the cute panda suit just adding to the appeal…

He was grinning stupidly by the time he returned. Kiku just raised an eyebrow, saying nothing. "Don't be rude," Yao said, prodding him playfully.

"…I'm sorry."

"You're clearly not!"

"I'm sorry about that."

Yao felt a strange sort of peace wash over him, even as they continued play-fighting. He loved this person so dearly, and would be utterly content to just be with him always. He looked at Kiku, and was met with eyes that regarded him with adoration, though no other sign of said emotion could be seen on his face.

"I…" Put off by that simple gaze, he could no longer argue or respond. Kiku apologised, sincerely this time, though having won, he was smirking slightly.

They were leaving when a shelf of ornamental paperweights caught Kiku's eye. There were cats, fishes, boats and—yes, flowers. "Here," said Yao, taking down a chrysanthemum one and a peony one. "Choose one."

Kiku hesitated for such a long time that Yao wondered if he had forgotten the question. "That settles it," he eventually said, smiling and placing both on the counter. The cashier smiled as she priced them up.

"Buying them for your boyfriend?" she asked conversationally as she put them in the bag, laughing as they both froze. "Oh, it's obvious," she said.

Kiku turned as red as a tomato—Spain would have been proud. "Ah, he's not really my boyfriend, more like, um, well, it's complicated, you see, and well…" he trailed off and looked at Kiku again, who was so embarrassed that he was consistently creasing the edge of his shirt.

Oh, to heck with it. He couldn't stand this anymore.

"Yes," he said eventually, glimpsing Kiku's shoulders stiffen in reaction. "I'm buying them for him." With that, he simply took Kiku's hand, pulled him close, and kissed him.

Kiku went as stiff as a post, shaking. His lips were soft and sweet, but not very co-operative, and Yao wondered for an instant if he had compromised any chances of their relationship. He drew away, avoiding Kiku's painfully embarrassed, shocked face. He thanked the cashier and took the bag.

"Kiku? Come on, let's go," he said, offering Kiku his arm. Dazed, and probably not thinking straight, Kiku allowed himself to be led out. On the way home, he slept on Yao's shoulder, pressed against him. Yao wrapped his jacket around the other's shoulders.

"You two had fun," Ivan quipped at the sight.

Yao rolled his eyes. "You forget he probably does this with complete strangers," he said, reminding Ivan of the time that Kiku had fallen asleep on the Paris Metro. The other simply worked himself to exhaustion. Sleeping on people's shoulders was entirely normal in Japan.

But even so, Yao could not forget that after the kiss, Kiku's cheeks had remained tinted a delightful pink for the rest of the day.

* * *

"That's it, put that there," Francis said, having just finished setting up the chocolate fountain. He and Alfred had worked hard to set the room up, and now the only thing left was the fountain itself.

"Are you _sure _you know what you're doing?" Arthur asked, as Francis connected the plug to an adapter.

Francis stuck his tongue out. "Shush," he said haughtily. _"_You underestimate me."

"Well, I for one know the messes you always go and get yourself into—and I'm the one who bloody well has to clean them up! So: I'll leave you to it, and don't make me say I told you so." With that, Arthur left, unaware of the silly face Francis was making behind his back. Alfred too, made a quick exit, not stupid enough to stay.

"Hmph! I'll show them," Francis said, and plugged the contraption in.

It exploded.

Arthur returned with all haste, and, although initially concerned, could not help the laughter that escaped upon seeing marshmallow stuck in Francis' now very untidy, chocolate-smelling hair.

* * *

**A/N: **That's it for part one! Part two will be uploaded when I've finished editing it.

Notes:

Jia Long = Hong Kong

Yi Ling = Taiwan

_Anou = _um/hesitant pause in Japanese

I've used human names as a sign of closeness in this. For example, China considers himself quite close to Japan, so in both his speech and his narration, I've used 'Kiku.' France, however, isn't as close to him, so in his speech and his narration, 'Japan' is used.


	2. Chapter 2

Hello, everyone! Thank you for all your kind feedback and for being so patient while I edited part 2!

The prompts for this part are the same as those in the last chapter: vacation on a tropical island; marble; coffee; sea eagles; chocolate fountains + marshmallows (exploding); champagne truffles; drunken Japan; roses in the swimming pool; cake on top of a mountain; lemurs; typhoon; candles in caves; and, moon, flowers, and tea.

* * *

Yao was keeping a very close eye on Kiku. Anything involving alcoholic beverages and said nation was likely to end in disaster. Indeed, having managed to survive three drinks, Kiku was already very tipsy, giggling away at everything everyone said and mixing up his words.

"Kiku, you've had enough," he said, trying to discourage him from drinking further.

"That's rich," Kiku said, giggling, his face a bright red. "Lalcohilic."

Yao sighed, ignoring the comment (which was entirely unfounded—he just happened to be very good at keeping his alcohol; five thousand years did that to you), still trying to prise the glass from Kiku's fingers.

"You can't," Kiku said, trying to sound stern. "You have to learn to share."

He raised his eyebrows, amused.

"No buts," Kiku said, taking on a stern tone that was surprisingly reminiscent of his own when he had been scolding the younger East Asian nations. "Or it's straight to bed with you."

Yao coughed on his drink and spluttered. France looked on in amusement. "Not that you'd complain about that, eh, China? Keep it up, Japan, you'll win him over in no time." Kiku gave a small cheer.

"Th-That's completely—" Yao trailed off, clearing his throat. "Have you… cut your hair?" he said, suddenly noticing the curiously lopsided and rather scruffy hairstyle.

"You know how it is," France said vaguely, embarrassed. "Fashion is fickle." Yao raised an eyebrow again. Nearby, England snickered loudly, muttering something about marshmallows. Well, that confirmed it. His allies were mad.

It was then that America's voice broke out over everyone else's, louder than ever. "Hey, you guys! We should make this a _pool _drinks party! Everyone jump in!"

"Don't be silly," Ivan said, rolling his eyes. "Then again, I've no idea why I'm saying that to you…"

"Fine, we'll take a vote," America said, sticking his tongue out at his long-time rival and partner. "You agree, don't you, Kiku?"

Kiku nodded, possibly—probably—blissfully unaware of what he was agreeing to. "See?" America said, grinning. "Kiku agrees!" With that, the younger nation turned, and pushed Kiku in.

_Pushed Kiku in. _This was totally different from the day at the beach. Now, Kiku was drunk, uninhibited, and could easily be hurt. Instantly, Yao was on his feet, angrily pushing America in before the other could react. Seeing this, England raced to the poolside. Yao barely noticed, too busy trying to grab Kiku's hand as the other reached for him. He seemed scared, like he was desperate to get out. Yao imagined he was probably embarrassed. Finally, he grabbed Kiku under the arms and lifted him out, ignoring the thought of the others behind them as Kiku's thin arms looped around his neck.

"Are you alright?" he asked, helping the other to his feet, not neglecting to send a very nasty glare America's way. As far as he was concerned, this was entirely the other's fault. "Save it," he snapped at England, who was trying to defend America's actions.

Thankfully, the others had averted their eyes, save for poor Italy, who was looking on in distressed concern. Kiku had probably not noticed, for his wide eyes were still facing the floor. "Come on," he said, tenderly taking Kiku's wrist in his hand and leading him away. Kiku followed meekly, occasionally stumbling.

When they were out of sight, Yao motioned for Kiku to get on his back, which thankfully did not give way as he carried Kiku to his room. Kiku's face was buried into his neck, and the soft, regular breaths indicated that he was asleep. It was only when he arrived at Kiku's room that he realised that he did not know where Kiku's keys were. Not particularly keen on sorting through his wet clothes to find them, he headed for his own room.

He turned on the light and put Kiku in one of the comfortable chairs. Fetching a couple of the hotel's fluffy towels and removed Kiku's sodden footwear. Gently, he dried Kiku's small feet, and then his arms. Hesitating, he removed Kiku's shirt. At first, he dare not look, but as his hands brushed Kiku's soft skin, curiosity got the better of him. At the sight of Kiku's pale and slender figure, he blushed, and tried to focus on his task. He finished drying the back of Kiku's neck and hesitated. Removing his trousers and continuing would be… too much.

He picked up Kiku's wet clothes and took them into the bathroom, realising as he went that he was hopelessly in love.

* * *

Kiku woke to unfamiliar surroundings, a strong headache and an unpleasant chill. Blinking away the heaviness of sleep, he looked around. It was then that he noticed his shirt was gone, as well as his shoes, and that his legs were soaked. Panicking, he clutched at a nearby towel and stood up, upsetting a vase and only just managing to catch it. He was almost at the en suite when he tripped over the rug, just as Yao opened the door.

* * *

Yao felt Kiku's small weight in his arms before he realised that they would fall. Then Kiku was on top of him (not quite as undressed as he would have liked), blushing red. They stared at each other for a long moment before Kiku came to his senses and started apologising frantically, bowing and nearly whacking him on the forehead. Yao felt a spike of pain in his back and winced. "Kiku," he kept saying, trying to speak around Kiku's constant apologies. "Kiku, it's okay, could you just…" Kiku sat up, still atop him, concern and apology in his eyes. Yao felt no better about this position either.

"You were drunk," he explained. "America pushed you in the pool, so I, um… just dried you off a bit." Blushing, Kiku nodded, and clambered off him, helping him up. Yao rubbed the base of his spine. "Wait here," he said, leaving Kiku on the bathroom floor and fetching the panda pyjamas. "Here. Put these on, okay?"

Kiku thanked him, far too formally, disappearing into the bathroom. As he too changed into his sleepwear, he noticed a bottle of champagne and a box of chocolates sitting on the coffee table. He hadn't ordered them, and he had no idea where they had come from. Before he could puzzle about it further, Kiku emerged, swamped by black and white fabric. Yao looked away, blushing like a fool. Kiku was just too endearing. "Too cute," he whispered, but from the way Kiku froze, he knew the other had heard it.

"Um," he said, hesitating as he sat on the dry chair. "Thank you for…"

"Don't mention it," he said. "Are you okay?" Kiku nodded, but still looked embarrassed. "You've sobered up." He felt an odd sort of relief. Maybe it had something to do with getting Kiku out of embarrassment and threat.

"The cold water," he explained, thin shoulders still shivering.

Yao draped a blanket around his shoulders. He was not too happy about letting Kiku drink the champagne, but maybe chocolate would restore his energy a little and warm him up. "Go on, have one. It'll do you good."

"Ah, but really, I only need to sleep, I'll be fine in the morn—morning," Kiku said, yawning. Yao seized his chance and stuffed a chocolate into his mouth, grinning as Kiku turned pink, startled. Coughing in shock, Kiku blinked in surprise at him, struggling to swallow it.

"Chocolate can be good for shock," Yao told him, pushing the box towards him so that he would take another.

Kiku complied and picked one up, taking a small bite before looking up at him. "Won't you have one too?" he asked. "It's… They _are _yours."

Yao smiled and took one, freezing as the taste hit his palate. It was only then that he realised his terrible mistake. The chocolates—truffles, to be precise—were flavoured… champagne flavoured. Kiku watching him curiously, confused. "Ah, I just, um, well," he trailed off. Surely a tiny amount of alcohol wouldn't hurt?

But Kiku had already spied the champagne. Yao sent a questioning look his way; loath to let Kiku have any of it. Kiku caught his look and blushed. Unable to turn him down, Yao poured him a glass. His eyes sparkled as he sipped it. Kiku was beautiful, with his dark eyes shining and his cheeks tinted pink. Those small hands, those high cheekbones… Yao found himself staring and sipped the champagne to distract himself. It was high-quality, and high in alcohol content, and he knew for a fact that Kiku would be drunk in no time, despite having only two admittedly very large glasses.

Indeed, ten minutes later, Kiku was smiling blissfully. "Be careful," Yao said, steadying Kiku's hand as he tried to put the empty glass down.

Kiku giggled at his touch. Yao raised an eyebrow and moved towards him. "You've had enough already," he said, edging closer. Even though drunk, and somewhat uninhibited, Kiku was still alert, and would think it all a delightful game. "I think you should come—_go_ to bed."

Kiku shook his head playfully. Before he could protest, Yao scooped him up and carried him to the sofa. He blushed as Kiku wrapped his arms around his neck and loudly (well, loudly by Kiku's standards) hummed 'Here comes the Bride'. On the sofa, Kiku made no attempt to unlock his arms from around Yao's neck, now singing. "Here comes the bride, dressed like a panda."

Yao removed his hands, held them in his own for a brief second, and kissed Kiku's forehead, covering him with the blanket before retreating to bed. He was half-asleep when Kiku softly crossed the room and crouched by the bed, watching him with wide eyes. Then, seemingly on a whim, Kiku climbed in and curled up beside him. Like this, it was nearly impossible to move without disturbing him.

The panda pyjamas tickled his chin, slightly coarser than Kiku's hair. Between them, the bed was pleasantly warm. He could sleep like this, holding Kiku, cuddling him, even. When he listened closely, he could hear the others down by the pool. But here with Kiku, he felt distanced from that, at peace. The other's scent, which he had never noticed before, was pleasant and sweet, and Yao had the strongest desire to just lie down with him and hold him until the morning came.

Kiku seemingly had other plans.

"China-san, this isn't a very normal wedding night." His feet brushed against Yao's shins as he shifted to look up at him, the panda pyjamas only making him look cuter. "I'm not wearing a dress. Or a suit. Or even lingerie."

_Oh goodness_. "Let's play a game," he mumbled sleepily, and Kiku nodded into his side. "It's called 'who can keep quiet the longest'." If Kiku hadn't been drunk, he would never have fallen for this. But drunk he was, and so he was fooled. Trying not to linger on Kiku's earlier statement, he closed his eyes.

Sometime later, Kiku spoke up at a whisper. "China-san, am I winning?"

Yao did not answer, already fast asleep. Moments later, Kiku joined him.

* * *

Yao woke in the morning with a slight weight by his side. Kiku's presence there surprised him at first, but then he recalled the events of the night before and smiled softly. As Kiku exhaled particularly heavily, a stray strand of hair lifted up and fell down again. Yao nearly melted—the other was simply so precious. But he was much more than that. Kiku was special. He under-valued himself so much (too much, Yao thought), but he had a strong effect on people. He understood others and helped them understand themselves, twisting their faults into things to be appreciated.

Yao had long since realised that he was looking for a companion; someone who he could look after and dote on, someone he could be with all the time. In a way, maybe he was craving consistency; to wake up loving one person and to fall asleep loving that person.

As he stroked Kiku's hair, a smile worked its way onto the other's sleeping face.

He had finally found that.

* * *

Whereas Yao's morning had been relatively calm, Kiku's morning was filled with panic. Waking up in Yao's bed, showering in his bathroom and wearing his clothes (his were still wet and he did not want to risk walking around in the panda pyjamas) did not come under Kiku's definition of comfortable. If he ever got over the awkwardness from this, it would be a miracle.

"I'm really sorry," he said again as he handed Yao the last of his neatly-folded clothes, after having changed in his own room. "I've caused you so much trouble…"

Yao smiled at him over the threshold. "It's no problem. You weren't really in the best state of mind anyway."

"I apologise," he said again, bowing this time. Yao ruffled his hair as he did so.

"You're no trouble," he said, as kind as ever. "I'll see you later?"

Kiku nodded, for some reason feeling a little disappointed as Yao left and walked away. Yao turned to wave, smiling at him. Blushing, and feeling better as he did so, Kiku waved back.

After Yao was out of sight, Kiku retreated into his room and sat on his bed, trying to make sense of everything. It had pained him terribly to see Yao leave. No matter how he had sometimes tried to deny it, Yao had been a near-constant presence in his life. Consistency created security, security created reassurance…

It wasn't so much that he needed that, though he did, sometimes. But there was something about Yao that made him a healing sort of presence. He was kind and patient, especially given that he often waited for Kiku to open up on his own. Around Yao, Kiku could be himself. Kiku supposed he needed that.

But there were other sides to Yao, too—he was strong-willed and determined, and it showed. He did not come across as such, but he could take charge, too.

And he was a mystery. No matter how he changed, Yao was always still himself; there was some underlying quality in him that had never changed. Kiku admired that. He resisted change for as long as he could, then suddenly went with it, losing a lot of himself in the process. At the least, it felt that way.

So maybe opposites attracted. Sinking onto the bed, he sighed, wondering what to do. He had two options, neither of which was particularly attractive. Confessing his feelings might jeopardise the relationship that he had worked hard to build. To wait would be to prolong this odd emotional stalemate, but it might make Yao happier. Then again, Yao's behaviour had been oddly… forthright recently. He touched his lips at the memory of the kiss in the shop and shivered as he recalled Yao's long fingers stroking his hair.

What did the other need, anyway? As far as Kiku was concerned, he had no special qualities or redeeming characteristics; he was just a quiet, flawed person who was remarkably unremarkable.

So why did Yao pay such an interest in him? Could it really be that Yao loved him too?

* * *

Francis finished removing the last of the rose flowers from its stem and placed it on the water, watching as it bobbed towards the centre of the pool. Feliciano cheered.

"Hooray, we're finally finished!"

Francis nodded and smiled at him. Three hundred rose flowers and several hundred single petals floated in the smaller, secluded pool. This was the pinnacle of their plans. After this, China and Japan were on their own.

* * *

Yao sat up as a piece of paper worked its way under his door. "Who is it?" he called. At the sound of hastily retreating footsteps, he opened the door, but just missed Italy's form vanishing around a corner. "Strange," he said, picking up the note.

_Yao-san, _it read. _Come to the small pool at 6.00. Kiku. D_espite the fact that he and Kiku often used Mandarin or Japanese to communicate privately, the note was written in English.

_Odd, _Yao thought, looking at the name. _He never calls me Yao._

But he set off all the same, not wanting to be late.

When he arrived, the sight of the pool with all the roses astounded him. But curiously, Kiku wasn't there. That was slightly saddening, but maybe Kiku was just running late (which was, he conceded, a very unlikely excuse). Thinking about it, the gesture, though beautiful, was not something Kiku would do. It was far too bold; far too visible.

The sun was low and it was hot. The humidity was nearly unbearable. He dipped his feet into the pool, relishing the cool water. Slipping off his shirt, he submerged himself in the rose-filled pool, and waited for Kiku.

* * *

A note slid under his door. Curious, Kiku picked it up, eyebrows furrowing in slight confusion as he read it.

_Kiku, come to the small pool at 6.10. Yao._

_Why would he write in English? _Kiku wondered. If anything, Mandarin would have been the most obvious choice. _Unless… it wasn't written by China-san. _Now that he thought about it, hadn't Francis been terribly curious whenever he was with Yao? And hadn't the others been disappearing at opportune moments rather frequently? Kiku frowned, tucked the note in his pocket and left his room, thinking as he went.

Yao was in the pool, surrounded by roses. Kiku's heart skipped a beat. It was romantic, certainly, but flashy, and he was not prone to public displays of affection. He even drew away from simple, unromantic touching. The kiss in the shop the other day had been a strange mix of mortifying and pleasing.

Furthermore, given the note… It was likely that someone was watching. "It's unlike you to be late," Yao called, and Kiku looked at his watch.

"I'm early," he answered, waiting for Yao's reply. "Your note said six-ten."

Yao looked confused. "_My _note? You're the one who sent a note."

"We're being set up," Kiku said simply, sitting on the edge and dipping his feet in. With that, everything fell into place, and Yao frowned in understanding. Yao swam over to him, folding his arms and resting his chin on them as he looked up at him.

"I knew this wasn't something you'd do." He said, sounding disappointed. "But we might as well make use of it, I suppose."

Not quite sure what to make of Yao's words, Kiku looked at him in confusion. Yao reached up, taking his hand and pulling him in. For a moment, his bare chest was exposed, and Kiku blushed, trying not to stare. His muscles, an unexpected counterpart to his slim figure, were actually finely defined, and he was strong. Kiku blushed harder as Yao smiled, then struggled as Yao pulled him into his arms. He soon gave up, however, and it simply felt right to put his own around Yao's neck. Yao leant into him, inhaling deeply and pulling him closer. He gasped, wriggling a little, but Yao held him tightly.

"I love you," Yao whispered into his ear, making him stop completely. "I really do."

Yao's lips hovered above his own. Drawn to them, Kiku almost leant in, but then his eyes subconsciously changed focus to the courtyard around them. He remembered the shop, the kiss, the strange sensation of happy embarrassment turning to humiliation. "No," he said, leaning away. "Please don't."

Yao's usually proud shoulders slumped. He looked hurt. Instantly Kiku saw his mistake—Yao thought he didn't love him. "Please, don't take that the wrong way," he pleaded, still in Yao's arms. "I do love you. I've loved you for such a long time now. But to… kiss, here, is…"

"Do you mean that?" he asked, meeting his eyes. He did not smile, and Kiku knew he was totally serious. "You… love me?"

"Yes," Kiku said, nodding into Yao's neck. He finally understood why it was called a confession. He felt dirty, having kept it secret for so long. Saying it aloud was a relief. He froze as the other's shoulders heaved, worrying that Yao was crying, but then raucous laughter broke out. Confused, Kiku looked up at him.

"I'm so relieved," Yao said, beaming at him. "I've agonised over that for days," he said, looking down at him fondly.

Relieved, Kiku sighed, clinging tightly to Yao's form. They had been treading water for a while now, and, not being the best of swimmers, he was getting tired. Yao climbed out of the pool. "Here," he extended a hand and Kiku took it, glad to be out. Rose petals clung to his clothes and hair, and Yao tenderly picked them off as they sat there.

Together, they returned to Kiku's room, showering and drying off. They sat on the bed together, basking in each other's company, Yao picking yet more flowers out of his hair.

"Are we…" Yao began, trailing off uncertainly.

Kiku hesitated to confirm what they both wanted to hear. Could they really make a relationship work, while still navigating political sensitivities and cultural minefields? It was a relatively long-distance relationship, too. They could fall into traps; being too clingy and suffocating the relationship; not seeing enough of each other and letting it die… "I need time," he said, trying to sort through his doubts. "I just… want to think a bit."

Yao's shoulders fell, and Kiku began to panic. "Of course," Yao said, his weak smile wavering dangerously. "Of course. I'll just… go."

Before Kiku could stop him and explain, Yao was on his feet, and Kiku did not think there was anything that would have stopped him leaving or brought him back.

Yao lay awake that night, nursing a wounded heart. Kiku did the same, blaming himself for being too hesitant, too cautious. To him, conquering his doubts had seemed the best way forward, for ignoring them could have been detrimental to the relationship. But doing so had ruined all chances of it anyway, and Kiku wept for all the things he had imagined doing, all the happiness he had imagined giving, all of which would never come true.

* * *

Yao walked up the steep hill with a forced spring in his step. The hike up the volcano, which had thankfully displayed no signs of activity for a very long time, was both refreshing and upsetting: it was a wonderful day, but he still felt demoralised from the night before. Although Kiku returned and reciprocated his feelings, he had been turned down. 'Time to think' had obviously been a synonym for 'no', and he had not quite come to terms with that rejection yet.

For his part, Kiku trailed at the very back of the group with Italy and Germany. Even though he smiled occasionally, he looked crestfallen and upset.

"Stick close," Arthur called as they entered a dense, thick forest. The trail was largely invisible, long since overgrown.

He looked back, where Kiku was crouched down in the grass, trying to find something in his bag. "Go on ahead," Yao heard him say. "I'll catch up." Ludwig nodded, dragging Feliciano to the main group. Yao, however, hung back, waiting for him, wanting to talk to him. As Kiku swiftly took a couple of painkillers, Yao walked back to where he was.

"Come on," he said, crouching down. "We'll be left behind."

Kiku nodded, not looking at him as he hastily repacked his bag. They walked in silence, with Kiku's head bowed so low that Yao could not see his face. As they walked further, Yao realised that the others were nowhere to be seen. "Hey," he said, attracting Kiku's attention. "Can you hear the others?"

Kiku listened, meeting his eyes as he realised what was happening. "Well, we came from that way," Yao said, pointing over his shoulder. "Perhaps we should walk back."

Although they retraced their steps, they found no sign of the others. No one answered their calls, and there was no sign of where they had walked. They exchanged glances, realising that they were completely and utterly lost. "Let's just walk," Yao suggested, and Kiku nodded his agreement. "Stick close, okay? I don't want you getting lost too."

Conversation finally broke out as they walked. It wasn't much, but it helped to relieve a bit of the tension. Yao realised that even if Kiku had turned him down fully, he would still love him dearly for a long time. Rejection did not spell giving up, either.

"China-san, there's something I should tell you," Kiku began, but Yao interrupted him. Right now, he couldn't bear hearing it.

"Not yet," he said, not meeting Kiku's eyes. "Let's get out of here first."

Kiku agreed, albeit reluctantly. After taking numerous turns towards wherever the light seemed strongest, they finally escaped the forest, blinking as the strong sunlight hit their eyes.

Nearby, a track led up the mountain. From there, they would hopefully be able to look out over the forest and work out where they were. The track was steep, but not unbearable. Caves dotted the mountain to the side of them. Yao stopped and looked around. "This is a nice spot," he said, sitting down on the path. Kiku sat next to him, silent and content. It reminded Yao of the many nights they had spent watching the moon. "Look," Yao said, pointing in the trees. "That bird."

"It's like the one that stole America-san's glasses," Kiku said, smiling fondly at the memory. "Oh, that's right," he said, as though having just remembered something. He still looked perfect, Yao thought. He was captivatingly cute, swinging his legs over the side of the mountain as he sorted through his backpack. He placed a small box between them, looking slightly embarrassed.

Yao opened the pack carefully. Inside was a cake, beautifully decorated and rather tempting. Without realising it, they had both worked up an appetite walking through the woods and up the mountain. Kiku produced plastic forks and smiled.

The wind picked up as they ate in what was the most comfortable silence of the day (which wasn't saying much). With some deliberation, Kiku began to speak. "China-san, I really need to say…"

"Ah! Look! Look!" Yao heard movement behind them and turned to look. There on the path was a curious lemur, its big orange eyes watching them curiously. "It's so cute!" he gushed, not noticing how Kiku's shoulders slumped and how weakly the other agreed. "Here, here," he cooed, breaking off a bit of cake and throwing it gently to the inquisitive animal. The lemur approached and cautiously took the bait.

Yao threw another bit of cake and tried to coax the animal even further. Another lemur appeared, then another, until nearly ten were crowded round him. Too caught up in feeding them, he barely noticed that it was beginning to rain. Then, startled by something, they turned and fled into the forest.

Disappointed, he turned back to Kiku, who was watching the trees intently. "China-san, I don't think this is just an ordinary storm," he said, shivering. Yao saw how steeply the trees were bent and the rate at which the rain was falling. The box of cake, only half finished, vanished over the side of the mountain path, knocked off by the wind.

"…I think you might be right," he replied, looking up at the darkened sky. He stood up, ignoring Kiku's repeated warnings for him to stay seated. "There's a cave over there," he said, shouting over the roar of the wind. "Come on!"

* * *

Kiku looked up at Yao and then down at the forest. He did not want to meet the same fate as the cake, but getting up was not very appealing either. Still sitting down, he inched backwards and cautiously climbed to his feet, picking up his bag as he did so. Yao took his hand and squeezed it. Kiku was grateful for the comfort. The wind had really picked up, and they struggled to move. He lost his footing once, and nearly fell, but Yao caught him, securing an arm around his waist.

Finally, they made it to the mouth of the cave. They stood cautiously in the entrance, still lashed by the wind and rain. Using his phone as a light, Kiku scoured the cave from top to bottom. Thankfully, it was empty, save for an odd collection of candles in the corner and a small table in the other. Exchanging curious glances, they ventured in, still holding hands.

"Do you have your lighter?" he asked, thanking Yao as he handed it to him. After lighting several of the candles, he turned his phone off. The storm could last for a long time, so it was better to eke out the batteries, and the others could still phone Yao's number.

Yao was sitting by the wall of the cave, watching him. Kiku sat next to him, finding the picnic blanket he had been carrying in his pack. "It'll be okay," Yao said, trying to reassure him. Kiku nodded, drawing the blanket over them both. Neither spoke for a long while; and it was only when Yao's head sunk onto his lap that Kiku realised he was asleep.

Kiku smiled sadly, praying that he still had a chance to make things right between them.

* * *

Yao woke stiffly, to very dim light. His head was on something soft and warm, and hands played with his hair. Realisation struck him: he was in Kiku's lap. He struggled upwards, stretching his shoulders. "Good morning," Kiku quipped, watching as he sat up.

Tired, he only poked his tongue out in reply. "It's still not let up, then?"

Kiku shook his head, remaining quiet. Yao could tell that something was bothering him, and touched his arm softly. "I'm sorry," Kiku began. "If it hadn't been for me, we wouldn't have been in this mess at all. And…"

"You apologise too much," he said, hearing the sincerity in Kiku's voice. Kiku's apologies were nearly always sincere. For Kiku to depreciate his actions and so often find fault with himself worried Yao a little.

Kiku shook his head again, somewhat enigmatically. "About yesterday, too. All I meant was that I didn't want to rush into anything. I thought that if I did, I would end up hurting you." He looked a pitiful sight, his knees drawn up to his chest and his head bowed over them. "But as it happens, I did anyway. It's all I ever do. I'm sorry."

Relieved, but also a little sad, he gently wrapped an arm around Kiku's shoulders. The other did not flinch or shy away, but the lack of response was just as worrying, if not more so. Kiku did want to be with him after all, but was concerned for him. He should have seen that, really. He pulled Kiku closer until he was finally able to coax the other into his lap. Kiku wriggled a little to get comfortable, but he did not draw away.

"The problem with you," Yao said, kissing the palm of his hand lovingly. "Is that you're frightened. Not of commitment, not of a relationship, but of hurting your partner, and of being hurt, right?"

Kiku nodded, not responding otherwise. "But there are people who want to be with you," he said, breathing in the scent of Kiku's hair. "Kiku, don't drive me away anymore. Please."

"I don't want to be selfish," Kiku said. Yao moved a hand up to stroke his hair, losing his fingers in it.

"You're not," Yao reassured him, holding him tightly. "So, what do you say?"

"You don't mind?" Kiku asked, looking up at him sadly.

"Of course I don't mind. Just one thing," Yao said.

"Mm?" Kiku blinked, and Yao grinned.

"You owe me a kiss," he said, breathing into Kiku's ear, his voice like silk.

Kiku almost smiled, but as they drew closer, it slipped away. His eyes flicked up to meet Yao's and down to his lips before finally closing, just as Yao pressed his lips against Kiku's own. Kiku leaned into the kiss, all resistance melting away, his fingers tightening around Yao's sleeves. Eventually they parted, hesitant to draw away from the other's warmth. Kiku rested his forehead against Yao's, then shifted so that he was able to rest against him. Yao drew the blanket around them, and together, they slept through the storm.

* * *

There was a great deal of fuss when they finally returned to the hotel. Neither was particularly pleased about or receptive to it, and at the first chance they had, retreated to spend the day in each other's company. Yao made sure to send all sorts of threatening eye-signals France's way, until he was sure that the Frenchman knew that his plan had been rumbled. England also found himself taking salt instead of sugar in his tea.

Needless to say, the flight home was very tense.

Summer holidays really were _so _much fun.

* * *

Four months later, Kiku and Yao sat on the veranda of Yao's house, watching the moon. Today had been a long day. They had been shopping and had walked for hours on end. While Kiku had only bought a couple of books, Yao had splashed out, buying a set of dangerously sharp knives, and a nice collection of cutlery and dishes. Despite Kiku's protests, Yao had also not neglected to spend money on him whenever possible, and he now had thousands of small gifts to fit into his suitcase. As far as Kiku was concerned, this was the perfect way to relax after such a busy day.

"It's been a long time since we did this," Yao said, leaning over to take a cup of tea from Kiku and kissing his cheek.

"It has," Kiku said wistfully, sitting beside him and looking up, a small smile on his face. "I feel old now."

Despite all his worries, things had worked out fine. They saw and spoke to each other regularly enough, and although they had fought once or twice, everything had been resolved in the end, and they were still very much in love. "The moon," Yao said, drawing his attention. "It's so bright tonight."

"It's lovely," Kiku replied, then paused as something fell on his head. Confused, he reached up to touch it, discovering it was a rose. "Yao-san, is… there a rose on my head?"

Yao looked at him curiously, but then did a double take. "Yes," he said. "How bizarre." As he reached out to take it, tons of roses fell from the roof, landing on and around them. Yao stood up and spun around, and his eyes widened as Arthur fell from it, landing in a heap in the doorway.

"Why… are you in my house?" Yao asked quietly, a thinly veiled threat present in his voice.

"Be careful, Arthur!" France's voice floated down from the roof.

Kiku's eyes widened as Yao waded through the sea of roses and stepped _on _Arthur to get into the house, ignoring the 'oomph' of distress as he did so. "Jia Long," Yao called, and Kiku saw him appear in the doorway. "Did you let these two in?"

Jia Long stared at him, and shrugged. "Seemed like fun," he said, simply walking away from Yao's furious glare.

As the door shut behind Jia Long, Alfred and Yi Ling jumped out of nowhere, bursting party poppers and sending streamers everywhere. Kiku looked on in a mix of amazement and apprehension, poking his head round the door curiously. Then confetti fell from the roof too. The sound of shattering porcelain echoed from somewhere in the house. Yi Ling was filming the entire thing.

"Stay here, Kiku," Yao said, staring darkly at the floor. "I'm just going to go and get those cleavers."

* * *

**A/N: **Well, there we have it! I hope this was to your liking, and thank you once again for reading!


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